


The Beginning of the End

by MichisAccount



Category: 15th Century CE RPF, The Sunne in Splendour - Sharon Kay Penman, The White Queen (TV), Wars of The Roses - Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-24
Updated: 2015-08-24
Packaged: 2018-04-17 00:39:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4645941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MichisAccount/pseuds/MichisAccount
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In early 1459, during a journey with his wife and youngest children to his oldest sons in Ludlow, Richard of York thinks about the situation he and the kingdom are in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Beginning of the End

The journey had been a difficult one, lasting longer than he had expected. Despite it being summer, the roads had proved difficult to travel, and this had not been made easier by the fact that to avoid unpleasant encounters, they had taken the indirect route through a rather unhospitable Welsh landscape to Ludlow. They were nearing the castle now, but night had already fallen. Presumably, they would startle everyone when they arrived. Presumably, everyone there assumed they would only arrive the next day.

Richard of York was not happy. The slow pace of the carriages irritated him almost as much as the fact that circumstances made it necessary for him to accompany his family in them, that he could not let them travel alone, that he had to fear for their safety should he allow them that. The mere thought that he could not now let his wife and daughter travel with his young sons without fearing the king`s - or rather the queen`s - men waylaid them, held them, used them to force him to bend to their will was unbearable. What had this country come to, and that only due to the French woman manipulating the king!

Almost without realising it, he searched for his dagger, his fingers curling around it, the familiar form of the weapon comforting in his hand. If someone tried to harm his family or him now - well, they were in for a surprise. And once they were safe in Ludlow, he would start making sure that such a threat to them never existed again. That all those men who now opposed him - lickspittles to the Frenchwoman - would get what was coming to them.

The carriage shook, becoming even slower, and Richard growled. What was happening now?! They should be near the castle now; there could be no explanation for any halt. If the wheel of one of the carriages behind them had broken, then so be it! It could be repaired, but surely their presence was not needed for that! “What are they -”, he began, then stopped when his wife Cecily put a hand on his arm, gave him a smile. “We`ll be there soon, my lord husband.”

Richard made to make a short reply, but looking at her, found he could not. She did not deserve being barked at; the circumstances of their journey were not her fault. And she took the adversities far better than he did, he had to admit. How she could smile even now was beyond him. “I do certainly hope so, my dear”, he said after a moment, and she nodded. “Of course we will.”

He could only hope so, but did not voice his doubts. By God, this was worse than any military campaign! How could Cecily endure to always travel in a carriage? He had always thought he was doing her a favour, that women travelled in greater comfort, but clearly that was a misconception. He would allow her to accompany him on a horse the next time they went somewhere. Anywhere.

The only bright spot of this unbearable journey had been being able to spent a lot of time with Cecily and his three youngest children, for which he usually could not make so much time. He did not think he had ever spent a whole day in their presence, not interrupted by anything. Well, he thought, except for Cecily. He could remember a few days which they had spent solely in each other`s presence - the memory of which cheered him a bit - but not with his children, though he regretted not seeing very much of them.

They had behaved impeccably, too, and for a few hours, Richard had been able to take joy in simply talking to them even while they were shaken through in that damn carriage. Margaret, at just thirteen, was already showing signs into turning a very noble lady - and how could she else with such a mother - and nine-year-old George and six-year-old Dickon had proved to be bold, happy boys, asking him countless questions about everything that occured to them. They would doubtlessly turn into as strong, capable young men as their older brothers.

Now, however, they all seemed to be growing weary of travelling too. Dickon had fallen asleep a while ago; his head was now lying on Margaret`s lap as he snored quietly. She, looking somewhat tired, stroked his hair with one hand and held the repeatedly yawning George with the other.

None of them had voice a single complaint all during the day, which made Richard both proud and slightly irritated, because it made him feel querulous, though he had every reason to feel grumpy. Even if this journey ever ended, who knew how they would be received, arriving in the middle of the night? For all they knew, they would be taken for enemies and shot at!

Apparently his thoughts showed on his face, for Cecily reached for his hand. “I am sure Edward and Edmund have prepared everything perfectly”, she muttered. “You have sent ahead when we expect to arrive, of course?” “Naturally!”, he snapped, then promptly felt guilty. “I am sorry. It is just - this carriage -”

She gave him a half-amused, half-reproachful look. “Trust me, there are worse.” Richard stared at her in horror. “Used for self-confessed traitors before they are hanged, drawn and quartered?”, he asked, at which Cecily slapped him playfully. “I did not think I would have to tell you to behave when we boarded this carriage this morning!”

Several possible answers burned on Richard`s tongue - how could anyone be expected to behave under such miserable circumstances - but before he could utter one, Margaret interrupted him by sighing quietly. It was the first sound she had made in at least an hour, and the first sign of discomfort she had given all day, and both he and Cecily immediately turned to her. “Margaret?”, Cecily asked, quietly, and the girl looked up at her. “I am sorry, my lady mother. Only - Dickon`s head is quite heavy and my legs -”

“Wake him up.” This sound bit of advice came from George, who had equally not spoken for at least an hour before. “He doesn`t need to sleep.” “George!” Cecily`s voice was stern, but George did not relent. “If he hurts Margaret he can wake up!”

Richard looked from him to his sister, then to the little boy in question. He seemed comfortable enough - Richard almost envied him - but it was probably right that it was less than pleasant for Margaret.

“Can I wake him up?”,George seemed to take the momentary silence of his parents as consent, and leaned over, apparently planning to poke his unsuspecting younger brother in the eye.

“Don`t!” Richard spoke just in time to prevent this, and George froze, looking rather disappointed. “Why not?”, he asked. Richard was just about to say that the fact he had said so was reason enough when Cecily forstalled him by saying: “He is younger than you. He needs more sleep.”

This seemed to satisfy George, who sank back into his previous position with Margaret`s arm around him. “He is only a baby”, he murmured, smiling slightly - Richard did not blame him, something was needed to cheer a person up on this dratted journey, even if it was such a simple thought - but Margaret looked less than happy, though she said nothing more.

Richard looked at her for a moment. She gave every sign of growing into a wonderful woman and would doubtlessly be a good mother to his grandchildren one day, but it was not fair to her to expect her to be one to her younger brothers now, under such circumstances. If he already felt uncomfortable, he could at least make sure his daughter did not feel more so. “Give him here”, he said therefore, after short contemplation, causing all three awake members of his family to stare at him. “I can hold him so you don`t have to”, he elaborated when Margaret made no sign of understanding what he meant, and she smiled in relief, carefully lifted the boy up.

Dickon opened his eyes when Richard picked him up, but immediately closed them again afterwards, letting his head fall against Richard`s shoulder when he was settled on his lap. Even while Richard still shifted to find a comfortable way to sit with the boy leaning against him, he had started snoring again, was apparently quite unaware of the continuing, excruciatingly slow, movement of the carriage carrying them towards Ludlow.

Lucky little devil.

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, as are my other stories, this is inspired by the historical persons and real events, not by "The White Queen" or "The Sunne in Splendour", but posted here for lack of other fandoms.


End file.
